


47. Shopping turns into more

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [47]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	47. Shopping turns into more

_**Ryan Kwanten & Sam Worthington: Shopping turns into more**_  
[current]  
 **[warning: use of sounds]**

Dark sunglasses kept on inside, Sam ambles along the produce aisle, trailing behind Ryan, eyes mostly on his boyfriend's absolutely drop-dead gorgeous ass. Until said boyfriend starts dropping really weird shit into their grocery cart. "What the hell is that thing?" he asks, pointing at the latest addition.

"Cherimoya. I can never get it in the States," Ryan says, excited as he selects another of the bumpy green fruit. "But here, I guess they're importing from New Zealand... Have you ever had cherimoya mousse?"

"No." Sam looks doubtful. "Do I want to?" he asks, only half-teasing, well aware he's not the most adventurous when it comes to food.

Ryan grins. "You're going to love it," he promises, his eyes sparkling at his lover. "And surely you've tried this, right?" he asks, tossing Sam a golf ball-sized hairy red rambutan.

Sam catches the fruit, eyeing it suspiciously. "It's a lychee, yeah?"

"Close. It's a rambutan. You'll love that, too," Ryan assures him, seeing the doubt in his lover's eyes. He looks over their cart which is filling up nicely, then spreads his arms, taking in the blissful abundance of the farmer's market. "See anything you want me to make for you?"

"Potatoes?" Sam says hopefully. Again only half-teasing.

"Potatoes? Sam..." Ryan laughs, shaking his head. He steps in close and murmurs, "You just want me to get something you can fuck me with."

Sam's cock starts to fill instantly. "I wasn't even thinking about that," he protests with a grin. "But now that you mention it..."

"Sure, now that I mention it. Because _I'm_ the one with the dirty imagination, right," Ryan teases. "You're just my muse."

Sam's grin widens. "Well, you are the one who knows what most of this stuff is," he says, leaning closer. "So... pick three things."

The light in Sam's eye sends a wicked shiver up Ryan's spine. He nods and turns away, his mind whirling with possibilities. The yellow crookneck squash is an easy choice, and he picks one which isn't too bulbous at the end. He's frowning and trying to decide between a cucumber or a zucchini squash when a bitter melon catches his eye. It's green and bumpy, the texture enticing, and it goes into the basket next. The broad cactus leaves don't get a second glance, and neither do the hot peppers. But the cassava... now that has potential, with its bark-like skin and long pointed shape. "Three," he says, looking back over his shoulder to see if Sam's even stuck by him or has wandered off by now.

But Sam's glued to Ryan's side, watching him decide between the different fruits and vegetables, the look of concentration of his face sexy as hell. "Brilliant choices," he says, taking the last from Ryan, his fingers run over the skin, his own hole clenching just a little at the feel. "What is it?"

"Cassava. It's a root, kind of like taro. But taro is toxic when it's raw, so don't even think about it," Ryan adds, not trusting Sam to know that one, and not wanting to take any chances. He grins.

Sam laughs. "I promise never to fuck you with anything that one, I don't know what it is, or two, you haven't approved beforehand," he says, his voice kept soft and low, his words for Ryan only.

"Deal," Ryan snickers, blushing faintly. Of course the conversation is getting to him, and he's glad he chose to wear loose shorts today. "What should I make for dinner?" he asks in a normal tone, trying to yank his mind - his body - to other matters.

"Steak and potatoes?" Sam suggests, again. "Or burgers?" He grins at Ryan, touching his hand to the small of his back since there's no one right there around them to see. "What do you feel like making?"

The touch makes Ryan shiver, all the more for how secretive it is. "I was thinking Indian. Aloo palak has potatoes in it." He gives Sam a little grin. There's nothing he wouldn't do for him, even when it comes to dinner. "Come on, let's go find you some steak."

"Are you having steak too or are you making something else?" Sam asks, knowing he's rather stuck in his ways when it comes to food but he's trying, especially since Ryan's such a good cook.

"Nah, it's for me too," Ryan assures him, piling a pound of potatoes into their basket. Make that two pounds, he decides, before leading the way to the butcher's counter. "You want to choose some wine? A Merlot would be really good." They don't have to have beer at _every_ meal.

"Okay. Local or French?" Sam asks, adjusting his sunglasses a little as he notices an older couple watching them.

"Let's try something local. Go crazy," Ryan teases, lost in a world consisting of just the two of them. Until he feels the eyes on them, too, and he shuts up fast, stepping up to the counter to place their order.

Sam wanders away, quickly losing himself in the liquor section. Wishing he wasn't so fucking paranoid every single time someone so much as looks at them. He checks out a few different Australian Merlots, reading the description cards beneath the crates. Waiting until Ryan joins him to make a final decision.

Ryan finds him there, and chooses a wine with plum and blackberry notes. "This one all right with you?" he asks, showing Sam the bottle. "We're having porterhouse."

"Yeah, that's good," Sam says, nodding. He glances up and down the aisle, checking they're alone before saying anything more. "Are you sure it doesn't bother you, keeping us a secret?" He's wanted to do right by Ryan from the moment they met and with this one thing, he can't help but feel he's failing miserably.

"Yeah." Ryan looks up, surprised. "I mean, no, it doesn't bother me," he clarifies, speaking in an undertone. "I understand why you need it, Sam, and I'm happy to do it for you," he says, trying to reassure. Seeing the banked distress in his lover's eyes.

"The thing is, it's always gonna be like this," Sam says softly. "Unless something really fucking changes, this is the way it'll be for the rest of our lives together." The fact that they'll never be able to be together openly hitting him hard.

"Yeah." Ryan nods. "That's true. And it'd be true in a lot of the world no matter who you were." If it weren't the case, then Ryan could take Sam in his arms right now, like he's dying to do. "The important thing is that every time we go home, you remind me that I'm yours."

Sam nods. Ryan's right. He may be doing this for his career but it's not like things would change that much if he were anyone else or doing anything different. "Thanks," he says with a small smile. "I guess I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I _want_ to be able to hold your hand and kiss you in public and it just... it fucking sucks that I can't."

It totally sucks. Ryan can't deny that. He forces a smile. "I know how to stop making you feel sorry for yourself, though," he murmurs, and his grin becomes more natural. "Just as soon as we get home, I promise." He shrugs airily. "You know, unless you'd rather eat first."

"Not in a million years," Sam says, smiling back. And because there's still no one in the same aisle, he adds a whispered, "Love you." Grateful as hell that Ryan doesn't mind.

That just makes Ryan smile wider. "Yeah, I'd put up with pretty much anything just to hear that," he murmurs, brushing his fingers against Sam's for a brief instant. "Come on, let's queue up and you can start thinking about what you want to do once we get home."

"I already know what I want to do," Sam says with a small smile as they walk back through the market to the front cash.

Well that makes Ryan's cock stand up and take notice, and his breath draws in as he tries to keep walking normally. _Damn_. Sam's never short on brilliant ideas. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, his lips barely moving. They queue up and he gives the cashier girl a smile as he hands over their goods.

Sam keeps himself busy looking through the candy and magazines at the front, keeping his head down as the cashier checks them out, chatting away about the day and the weather with Ryan. It's not until they're through to the other side, everything bagged up, that he speaks again. "You know, I love it that you don't push to know what my plans are."

Ryan looks at him in startlement as they make their way to the rental car. "Why would I?" he asks, genuinely curious. "I trust you. I know it will be spectacular, whatever it is. You don't need me looking over your shoulder." He grins. "Plus, I love surprises."

"I do too," Sam says, opening the trunk and starting to put the groceries in. "But some people don't." He glances at Ryan, smiling. "It's just another way we're well-matched."

"Keep talking like that and I'll be too gooey for you to do anything to me," Ryan murmurs, laughing softly. Not that it would stop Sam, hell no; he'd probably find all new wonderful ways to take advantage of Ryan. "You've turned out to be such a romantic," he says, pulling open the car door and slipping inside.

"Me?" Sam goes around to the driver's side, turning that over in his head. "Since when am I romantic?" he asks.

"You don't think you are?" Ryan grins, amused. "You're a secret softie, Sam Worthington," he says, pointing a finger at his lover. "I think I'm the only one in the world who knows." And he adores that, loves how special it makes him feel. A hidden treasure.

Sam grins, ducking his head a little. "If you say so," he murmurs, but he reaches across to take Ryan's hand, giving it a squeeze.

If they were at home right now, Ryan would take Sam's hand and start kissing it, licking each finger one by one. As it is, he contents himself with a squeeze back, and a mischievous grin, a brief trailing of fingertips over the sensitive skin of Sam's inner wrist.

"Mm." Sam shivers slightly, pleasure rippling through him. "That feels better than it should," he says, determined to keep his eyes on the road.

"Yeah?" Ryan does it again, watching Sam closely. Thrilling at the visible response. "Did I ever tell you how much I loved licking you that day?" he murmurs, turning the radio down so Sam can hear him. "Tasting every inch of your skin. Feeling your muscles jump beneath my tongue. Having you at my absolute mercy."

Fuck. Sam's cock starts to fill, hardening between his thighs and pressing against the zipper of his jeans. "Brat," he murmurs, shaking his head, knowing damn well what Ryan's trying to do to him, but the word's laced with affection, love and on some level, approval. Well-matched indeed.

Ryan snickers. " _Your_ brat," he replies, knowing that in truth he's at Sam's mercy all the time. "You're stuck with me."

"Good," Sam says, turning onto the small road that leads down to the beach and their house. "I want to be stuck with you, and to you," he grins, freeing his hand and placing it between Ryan's legs, cupping him through his shorts.

A groan, and Ryan pushes into Sam's hand with a small sigh. He's fully hard now, straining against the loose fabric of his shorts. Rubbing against Sam's hand.

Turning onto the small road that leads down to the beach and their house, Sam smiles and pulls his hand back. "Pull your cock out and touch yourself," he orders. "If you can come before we make it home, I'll let you fuck me later tonight."

"Oh, Christ," Ryan breathes. He pushes his shorts down and closes his fingers around his cock, stroking swiftly. Roughly. Pulling up on the head and twisting his other hand 'round his balls. His heart pounds and his breath stutters, and he only needs to pinch himself, hard, just beneath the crown before he's coming, shuddering with the force of it.

Sam glances over, his cock throbbing violently at the sight of Ryan's hand on his cock, covered with come. "Good boy. Clean it up," he orders, hole already clenching at the promise of having Ryan inside him. "I don't want you holding back tonight. Later, I mean. Prep me quickly and then fuck me as hard as you can."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan gasps, trying to catch his breath. He lifts his dirty hand to his mouth, his thoughts whirling. To fuck Sam? It's lucky he just came, or he wouldn't be able to hold out. They pull into the drive and he's still licking, bored with the taste of his own come now that he knows his lover's. When he climbs out of the car, his legs are shaky.

Sam picks up several bags and heads for the front porch, balancing them on one hip while he gets the door unlocked. He knows a lot of their neighbours don't bother locking up but he's not that trusting. Not these days. He sets them gently on the island, keeping in mind the time Ryan took to pick out all their fruit and veggies. Last thing he needs to is to bruise the crap out of them here. He heads back to the door but Ryan's already coming in with the next load. "Is that it?"

"Yeah. Let me get the steaks in the fridge," Ryan replies, setting down his grocery bags and searching inside for the sack from the butcher's counter. He'd been going to prepare a fresh marinade for the meat, but that look in Sam's eye is full of promise. Honestly, the steaks will keep. He washes his hands in the sink, then turns to face his lover, practically vibrating despite the fact that he's just come.

"Eager boy," Sam murmurs, leaning in, his lips brushed across Ryan's. "Go take your clothes off and lie down on the bed. On your back. I have to get something from the other room." Where, unbeknownst to Ryan, he's been stashing various things ordered from Citadel and couriered to him on set.

Ryan grins and starts stripping as he walks, tossing items of clothing aside in the hallway, kicking off his shoes and stretching out on the bed. Who wouldn't be eager? It's Sam. He feels energized now, ready for anything.

He hopes that's true.

Sam gets the kit from the other bedroom, hidden away in his old dufflebag under some old sweatshirts. He detours to the bathroom, where he scrubs his nails and washes his hands, right up to the elbow just to be safe. Finally making it into their bedroom, a low groan spilling from his lips at the sight of Ryan, spread out, waiting and willing. He hands the kit over for Ryan to see. "Do I need to tie you down for this?"

"Wow." Ryan's eyes go wide as he takes in the sight of the dozen sounds, graduated in size up to... half an inch, shit. "Are those...? Yeah. I mean, no," he says, shaking his head. "You don't have to tie me down. You don't ever have to tie me down," he teases, "I just like it when you do."

Sam laughs. "Well, this time I'm not going to," he says. "I'm going to trust you can keep from touching your cock or the sounds," he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss.

"Mmm. Can I touch you?" Ryan asks, nipping at Sam's bottom lip. He holds his hands up, letting them hover just above Sam's shoulders for the moment.

"As long as you don't jostle my hands or anything," Sam says with a grin, groaning at the scrape of teeth.

That's a relief. Not touching Sam when he's physically capable of it is pretty much beyond Ryan's powers at the best of times, much less when he's losing his mind to subspace. "Thank you, Sir," he whispers, licking his lips and lying back, stroking his hands over Sam's shoulders, slipping beneath his shirt.

"You're welcome." Sam's grin widens. He reaches into the bedside table for a bottle of lube and pulls an antibacterial wipe from the kit. "The sounds are already sterilized but I want to make sure your cock's clean too," he says, tearing it open and taking Ryan in hand, the crown and slit cleaned thoroughly.

Ryan shifts slightly and bites his lip, not entirely comfortable with the medical flavour of Sam's touch. He can't resist watching, though, leaning up on his elbows and staring avidly as Sam works. Shivering just a little at how cold the alcohol is.

"Let's start with a small one," Sam says, having no idea what Ryan's taken before like this. He generously lubes up the smallest sound of the bunch and places the tip at Ryan's slit, gently guiding it in, his breath catching softly as he watches it slowly disappear into Ryan's cock.

Now Ryan whimpers softly, the sudden pressure in his urethra not pain, but discomfort. Fullness where he's not used to it. Slowly Sam pushes it deeper and Ryan tenses reflexively, feeling the sound slide further into him.

Sam guides it gently as deep as it'll go, making sure there's no resistance, no obstruction in his path, before gripping the flat end and fucking it in and out a few times. Small shallow movements but, as he knows from experience, insanely intense.

Slowly Ryan shudders out a breath, his head tipping back. His eyes closing so he can focus on every flicker of sensation. He's never actually done this before, has only heard about it, and it's a wickedly perverse feeling. The first time something has gone _in_ where things should only go _out_ , and he moans, dropping his thighs open wider.

"Good boy," Sam murmurs, watching Ryan's face, the pleasure playing across his features. "I think you're ready for a bigger one," he says, pulling the sound out as slowly and gently as he put it in. "Next size or another one up?" he asks.

Ryan swallows hard, thinking. "Another one," he decides, knowing full well Sam will keep going until he's managed to stuff the largest one up there, and damn if Ryan can handle that much suspense. "With lube," he adds weakly.

"Of course," Sam says, grinning. "I wouldn't think of doing this without," he assures Ryan, lubing the next sound up as liberally as he did the first. "This one'll be a little more of a stretch," he tells him, placing the tip against Ryan's slit and pushing it in, his cock throbbing hard at the sight of that small hole stretching around the metal.

"Oh god. Oh _god_ ," Ryan gasps, digging his fingers into the bedspread. It feels so fuckin' wrong -- why are his hips starting to rock? Gently, oh so slightly, hitching with Sam's movements. The pressure is incredible.

"Like that, do you?" Sam murmurs, groaning as the sound goes in so fucking easily, sliding in as far as it'll go with barely more than a push from him. Fuck.

Ryan huffs a soft laugh, the sound tinged with nervousness. "Um. I guess so? I don't know, it feels so fucking weird," he admits, his eyes still tightly shut. Not a bad weird, though, not at all. Easier with each slide in. More enticing, in its bizarre way.

Sam chuckles. "Yeah, it does," he agrees, pulling the sound up a few inches and then letting it drop back down. And again.

"You've done this? From this end?" Ryan doesn't know why he's surprised, given that it's Sam. Except... it's Sam. He bites his lip, twitching experimentally. Meeting the next slide inwards.

Sam nods. "I've tried most things from both ends," he says with a grin, fucking Ryan's cock with the sound a few more times before pulling it out and slicking the next one - skipping the next size up again. "Just let me know if it's too much and I'll slow down."

It feels so strange to not be hard when Sam is touching his cock. And it's so strange for it to feel so good when he's not even fully hard. But Ryan is breathless when he opens his eyes to watch his lover, and he moans as the next sound slips in, so much bigger than what they started with. "What happens if...?" He licks his lips and rethinks the question.

"If what?" Sam teases, knowing there could be a couple ways to end that question, easing the sound almost all the way up before letting it drop back down. Fucking Ryan's cock with sharp shallow thrusts before pulling it almost all the way out again.

Ryan whimpers, and struggles to hold onto his words. "If... if you fuck me while that's in," he mumbles, a sudden blush rising high on his cheeks.

And that's definitely not one Sam was expecting. "We can do that," he says, a sly smile curving his lips. "Hold that in," he tells Ryan, waiting until his lover's got his fingers on the flat end of the sound. He stands, pulling his t-shirt over his head and unzipping his jeans. "Fuck your cock with it. Like I was doing," he orders.

Ryan tries to obey, but his attention is torn when Sam is stripping. Once he slides the sound deeper, though, he moans, sparks skittering up his spine. "Oh fuck," he whispers, his body rocking as he fucks the sound sharply into his cock.

"Good boy," Sam murmurs, slipping his jeans off and kneeling on the bed between Ryan's thighs. He pushes his knees up under Ryan's legs, lining up, his boy's hole already slick, already prepped and ready for him. Pushes in slowly, a low groan welling up from deep in his chest.

That noise -- it just does _things_ to Ryan, twisting up his insides into a delicious knot. And once Sam is fully inside him, damn. The pressure is incredible, so fucking intense. Ryan fucks the sound into himself faster, whimpering.

"Keep going," Sam orders, hands on Ryan's thighs, fucking himself into his boy's hole again and again, keeping pace with the sound and the way it's being plunged into that slit. "Fuck your cock, boy. Fuck it for me."

Ryan whines wordlessly. He is losing his motherfucking mind. Overwhelmed with intense sensation, _hard_ now -- and he didn't even think that was possible. "Please," he gasps, abruptly realizing that he is dangerously on edge. Shocked with it. "Fuck, please, Sir!" He wants to stop. He rocks the sound into himself again and again and babbles, "Please please please!"

"Go ahead, boy. I want you to come for me," Sam commands, his pace only increasing as he speeds towards his own orgasm, balls and body tightening with that tell-tale flush.

It's everything Ryan needs. He whips the sound out of his cock and explodes into his climax, keening with the force of it. Shuddering beneath his lover, still rocking his hips and trying to draw Sam over with him.

Ryan's body clamps down hard around him and Sam shouts, forcing himself through the sudden resistance, pleasure slamming into him, his cock spurting hotly again and again, filling his boy completely.

Ryan sobs out a breath and claws at Sam, pulling him down to cover him, wrapping his arms around his lover. "Oh god. Oh god," he gasps, needing desperately to ground himself somehow.

Sam gets his arms around Ryan's shoulders, hugging back and kissing the side of his throat. "It's okay," he whispers. "I've got you."

It's the voice that starts to settle Ryan, even before the words filter through. Slowly he eases back, his thundering heartbeat slowing. His head swims and he moans softly against Sam's neck.

"Too much?" Sam asks, uncertain, even though it seemed fucking brilliant to him. His judgement hasn't been the best of late though and he worries he's pushed too hard again.

"We're definitely doing that again," Ryan mumbles through a hazy smile.

"Yeah?" Sam grins, relieved.

"Yeah." Ryan shifts position so he can sprawl on top of Sam, nestling in comfortably. "I might not touch my cock for a day or so, though. Jesus."

Sam's grin widens. "So I guess you'll take a raincheque on fucking me tonight?"

Ohhh, now that's just cruel. Torn, Ryan actually considers the issue for all of two seconds, before his cock winces for him. "Tomorrow night," he says firmly. "I earned your ass and I'm getting it."

Sam laughs. "Yes, sir," he murmurs, kissing Ryan on the temple.  



End file.
